Looking to the Sea
by BrunetteAuthorette99
Summary: Three years after fleeing Kirkwall and the Qunari, with a new ship and luck on her side, Isabela returns to the City of Chains to offer the Champion and the rest of her former companions — now fugitives hunted on all sides — a way to escape. One-shot; set post-DAII.


**************[A/N] Recently, I've been replaying ************************************************************************Dragon Age II so I can reaffirm a "canon" playthrough before ********************************************************************************************************************Dragon Age: Inquisition comes out, and it kind of brought my writing impulses back to life. Hence, me writing this in about two days. :)**********************************************************

**********************************************************... And yes, you may have seen this before. I deleted it, but now I kind of regret that. So here it is again.**********************************************************

**************[D********************************************ISCLAIMER] I do not own Dragon Age II or anything related to it; that's BioWare's deal, not mine (sadly), and beyond my MP3 copy, I also do not own "Come Sail Away" by Styx. However, Denna Hawke is my original character**********************************************************, and she belongs to me.****

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><p><em><strong>LOOKING TO THE SEA<strong>_

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><p><em>Reflections in the waves spark my memory:<br>Some happy, some sad.  
>I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had.<br>We lived happily forever - so the story goes.  
>But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.<br>But we'll try the best that we can to carry on..._

"Come Sail Away," Styx

* * *

><p>Everything came rushing back to her the instant she stepped over the threshold and into the crowded, hot, noisy bar: the memories and fond recollections of a more carefree life, yes, but mostly the pungent smells of alcohol and day-old piss that had seeped into the rickety furniture and floor long ago and now would never come out.<p>

_That's the Hanged Man for you. _Isabela smiled contentedly to herself. _And I wouldn't take it any other way._

Stepping deftly to one side and swiveling her head around to try and see past the hordes of customers, the pirate tried to see who was seated at the bar counter, and then the tables, looking for a familiar face – _or fac_es, _if you want to get technical, _she thought, shrugging. _If I didn't find them by the docks or in Darktown or in Hightown, they'll definitely be here._

Suddenly, she caught sight of some flaming red hair out of the corner of her eye, and Isabela glanced over at the corner table. She blinked, and then took a second look at the square-jawed woman in the plate characteristic of the Kirkwall guard – and the others clustered around her.

Aveline. Merrill. Fenris. Bethany. Denna. Anders. Varric. All here, like the world had never fallen down around them.

They _were_ the same people that she knew three or five years ago – _has it really been that long?_ – and yet, they weren't. Everything in the Hanged Man hadn't changed a bit, as far as she could recall, but they were all unrecognizable, every single one of them.

For a moment, Isabela leaned up against one drafty wall by the door of the bar and scrutinized the seven strangers at the corner table. Fenris still bore traces of the scowl she had grown so accustomed to, but his eyes were troubled and he leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed in a strangely laconic manner. Merrill looked taller and more serious, with her clothes, not quite as well-mended and clean as before, hanging a little looser on her small frame. Bethany – _she truly had escaped the Circle when everything fell apart, then _– was paler than ever, the pallor of her skin stark against her wildly curly hair and her robes of heavy velvet. The only one who looked remotely familiar was Varric, and even he had lines etched into his forehead that hadn't been there before (_or have I just never noticed them?_)_,_ and Aveline, who looked just as disgruntled and stern as before.

But Anders... he was a ghost of his former self: all gaunt cheeks and a weary, haunted look in his shadowed eyes, his once-handsome face desolate. Denna leaned on him, her blonde hair shaggy and uncut and escaping from where it had always been gathered at the back of her neck, no mischievous smile gracing her lips for once.

All seven of them, gathered here like any other Kirkwall night, to drink and laugh and play Wicked Grace and listen to Varric spin his outrageous stories. But there were no cards or ale or anything on the table: just them sitting without saying a word, an oasis of silence in the noisy bar. If she didn't know better, the pirate might have said they were waiting for her.

_Maybe not. Probably not,_ she thought, shrugging. _But I've been waiting long enough to see _them_ again._

Pushing herself away from the wall, Isabela started weaving her way through the maze of moldy furniture and clusters of drunken patrons with a light step, attracting more than a few stares and whistles. Flashing her admirers a brief, dazzling smile, the pirate nevertheless continued on her course to the corner table.

_No turning back now,_ she reflected ruefully, stepping around a puddle of an unidentifiable liquid on the floor._ Even with the Qunari gone, coming back to Kirkwall could have been a _very _bad idea..._

Her destination was only three steps away. Clearing the final few feet with one long-legged step, the pirate found herself standing right in front of the table.

Seeming to sense her presence, seven pairs of eyes turned to her, whatever emotion they'd held before turning instantly to shock.

Mustering a cheeky grin, Isabela gave them a little wave. "Say, don't I know you lot from somewhere?" she joked. "I think I've seen some of you on bounty posters before."

Aveline was the first to react. Standing up abruptly from her chair, she slapped Isabela squarely across the face.

"Oh, that _hurt_," the pirate said, sticking out her lower lip in a pout as she gingerly rubbed her jaw. "What was_ that_ for?"

"The Qunari invading Kirkwall," the other replied stiffly. "All because you didn't give them their damn book back."

"Well, I don't think I _really_ deserved that blow," Isabela retorted. "Sometimes I think you forget just how much force those man-hands of yours have when you're swinging them about like an ape."

"Aveline's much nicer-looking than an ape," Merrill piped up. "And she's better with a sword. And I don't think apes can really use shields, either."

The pirate laughed. "Oh, kitten, I missed you." She skirted around a still-glowering Aveline and leaned down to hug the elf tightly. "Any better at cards?"

"Varric's tried to teach me how to cheat," Merrill said apologetically, "but I'm not very good at keeping my face like –" She tried to put on a straight face, but she giggled despite herself and it broke the illusion. "Well, I'm still practicing," she amended.

"In the meantime, Broody here just keeps getting better and better," Varric said, gesturing towards Fenris. "I owe him ten sovereigns, last time I checked – but you still owe me five," he added, glancing meaningfully at the elf.

Fenris held up one hand. "I'm good for it."

"And I suppose that means you'll just borrow the money from Hawke?" Varric asked sarcastically.

The other shrugged. "Perhaps." His eyes darted to Denna. "If she'd lend it to me."

"Normally, I would, but hiding out in Lowtown is turning out to be surprisingly expensive," Denna said wryly. "I've had to bribe a lot of people to not go running to the templars if they saw me or any of us."

"I went up to Hightown last night to see if I could find you, but the mansion had a dozen templars swarming around it like ants," Isabela commented. "Care to enlighten me as to what happened, Champion of Kirkwall?"

She knew what had happened, of course. Even if she hadn't had the opportunity to see the bare foundations and the fractured marble rubble that were all that was left of the Chantry – a stark, grim image against the opulence of the white, austere Hightown courtyard – the pirate had heard about the events from at least a dozen different sources as she sailed to Kirkwall: how an apostate planted explosives in the Chantry, how the Champion of Kirkwall turned her back on the law and sided with the Circle, how the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander lost their lives to dangerous magic and their own pride. The stories varied in their details and embellishments, but the outcome was always the same: Kirkwall was leaderless and boiling over with turmoil, and Hawke and her companions were fugitives from a city that they had saved countless times.

One of the ends of Denna's mouth quirked up. "I take it you heard about my little title, then. It sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"Gained by cleaning up_ your_ mess," Aveline interjected, still glaring.

"Oh, come on, the Qunari invasion was not my fault!" Isabela protested. "It's not as though I opened up the compound's gates and wished the Arishok a great time plundering the city! And for the record," she added, holding up a finger, "before you start blaming me for anything else that happened while I was gone –"

"We're not blaming you for anything, Isabela," Bethany spoke up, earnest as always. "But... why are you back? My sister told me that you left Kirkwall before the Qunari attacked."

"And took the Tome of Koslun with you," Aveline added. "What_ else_ would you need to come back for to appease Castillon – that is, if he even exists at all."

_Exist_ed. _Past tense._ "We-ell," the pirate said slowly, settling herself into the guard-captain's abandoned seat. "It has been _years_ since we last saw each other, you know. Now that I've bounced back, I thought I'd pay you a visit – though I guess I didn't have very good timing," she said, laughing a little.

"On the contrary, Rivaini, you have perfect timing," Varric put in. "Like the rest of us, you have a talent for getting mixed up in all the trouble within a stone's throw of you – especially in Kirkwall, the city where the wicked never rest."

"Varric, you know as well as anyone that I _love_ that!" Isabela exclaimed. "I think only Sebastian liked finding trouble more, even if it was only to 'help the disadvantaged' and_ not_ make some coin – speaking of which, where is that do-gooder?" she asked, scanning the table. "Is he waiting outside so he won't be tempted in this morass of sin?"

Seven pairs of eyes shifted around the table, catching each other's glance briefly before looking down at the table, the expressions on their faces ranging from uncertainty to quiet anger.

"Did I say something?" the pirate asked lightly, breaking the silence.

Denna lifted her head. "Let me put it this way," she said carefully, her words uncharacteristically clipped and icy. "Sebastian is one of the reasons why we're hiding out here and why we need to get out of Kirkwall as soon as possible."

Too late, Isabela recalled hearing some snatches of gossip earlier as she'd skulked around Hightown, something about a prince arriving in Starkhaven and making clear his intentions of retaking his throne and marching on Kirkwall. _What for? The Chantry's already gone, and unless he plans on rebuilding it himself, it's going to stay that way._

The pirate shook away her meddlesome thoughts. "I'm just surprised you haven't already left," she commented. "_How_ long has it been since everything went to shit?"

"Two weeks," Denna sighed, slumping back in her seat. "Feels longer, though. Probably because I've gotten about an hour of sleep since then."

"_Three_, act–" Fenris started to correct her before he grimaced. Judging by the slight _clang _of metal and Hawke wincing slightly, Isabela guessed that Denna had kicked him in the shin.

"There's been some contention about where to flee to," Varric picked up smoothly. "Thus far, we've decided that anywhere in the Free Marches is off-limits, and same goes for anywhere with a large Qunari population."

"Or Tevinter," Fenris interrupted, a murderous scowl on his lips.

"And you forgot Orlais," Denna chimed in. "I've had enough of political intrigue and despair-flavored cheese to last a lifetime."

"Or those," the dwarf added a tad impatiently. "Other than that, we're open to suggestions!"

"Oh, there's still plenty of places to choose from!" Isabela exclaimed. "Why not Antiva? I hear it's beautiful this time of year – or any time of year, really."

"Unfortunately, Rivaini, the assassins are also year-round," Varric pointed out.

"Why, Varric, I thought you _liked_ to live dangerously."

"I'm partial to danger. Bianca's the one who really enjoys it." The dwarf placed one hand on his crossbow, patting it almost lovingly. "But I doubt she'd be able to keep up with every Crow that tries to put a dagger in my back."

"Pessimist. No wonder you're running out of options." The pirate placed one hand underneath her chin, making a show of thinking. "How about Ferelden? Once you get past the muck and the wet-dog smell, it's not half bad."

Denna and Bethany exchanged looks, and then the latter shook her head. "I'd love to," Bethany confessed, "but – I don't know if I could. Home's not there anymore."

"Home isn't _anywhere_ anymore, Beth," her sister said quietly.

Isabela cleared her throat. "If I might suggest something..." She propped both of her elbows up on the table, making sure that everyone's eyes were on her before continuing. "You're not exactly considering all the different possibilities for an escape. Like the Waking Sea."

"Well, we _could_ sail somewhere, I suppose," Merrill said cautiously. "But – we don't even know where we'd go."

"No, no, kitten, you misunderstand me," the pirate laughed. "What I mean is that I am back in the possession of a ship that is a little lacking on crew at the moment."

"Maker's breath, did you steal a ship?" Aveline asked exasperatedly.

"Of course I did! If I'd borrowed it, I'd have to return it at some point." Isabela grinned at her cheekily. "If it eases your conscience a bit, it's not a very _big_ ship – but it's got a good amount of cargo space and it's _fast_."

"Why do you need a crew?" Bethany asked.

"Because I keep losing people and having to replace them – and they were more interested in drinking and gambling. Not that I disagree with that, but sailing the ship comes first." The pirate sighed dramatically. "Anyhow, I kicked out the ones that were left when I got to Kirkwall... and I thought that I'd try to find a more reliable crew than them."

There was silence for a moment as her words hung in the air. Isabela waited for one of them to catch the drift. _Come on, you're all bright – well, most of you. If you don't figure it out, I'll be very disappointed._

Then: "You want us to come and sail with you?" Merrill leaned forward in her chair, her eyes sparkling with sudden excitement. "And – and be pirates? Oh," she said, frowning a little, "but I don't have a parrot. Or a peg leg."

"I'm afraid Varric exaggerates all the time when it comes to pirates and their fashion sense, kitten," Isabela said, smiling, "but yes, you're welcome to come along."

"None of us know how to sail, though," Bethany said, brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'll teach you; it's easy enough," the pirate dismissed airily.

Aveline still looked suspicious. "What's your game?" she demanded. "There's _something_ you're not telling us; what is it?"

"Am I_ really_ getting scrutiny for trying to help my friends out?" Isabela asked, raising one eyebrow. "I thought you might approve of that gesture of nobility, but I suppose there's no pleasing some people. Look: I heard about everything that happened in Kirkwall, and I figured that you might need a little help running from the law – well, maybe not you, considering you _are _the law personified, but –"

"That's... that's almost _nice_ of you, Rivaini," Varric said, laughing. "Any other reason you're in Kirkwall besides giving your sailors the boot and bringing us on?"

The pirate considered the question for a moment. "I really missed the mystery meat stew here at the Hanged Man," she said thoughtfully. "The taste is suspect, but it warms you right up. Besides," she continued, flashing him a grin, "sometimes you just want to go somewhere where everyone knows your name."

"Could've stopped at the Rose, then," Aveline said shortly.

Isabela laughed. _Ah, I missed you, big girl. _"I thought you lot were strapped for time; I tried to get here as quickly as possible! But on that note," she said, "who's coming along besides Merrill?" She glanced around the table expectantly.

Varric leaned back in his seat. "I'd have to think about it, Rivaini," he finally said. "I'm not real good with the outdoors, let alone on the open ocean."

"But think of all the writing inspiration!" the pirate wheedled. "Adventure on the high seas, a lover in every port, treasure – especially treasure – what's not to love?"

"Alright, you may have me there," the dwarf confessed. "But give me a little time to think. The last time I jumped headfirst into something without considering the consequences, I met this one right here." He gestured at Denna, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "In case you can't tell, I've regretted it ever since."

Hawke reached behind Anders' back to playfully punch his shoulder, her smile back as well. "You know you love me, Varric."

"And I'd love to have you along too," Isabela said. "What do you say, Denna? Wreaking havoc and looking drop-dead gorgeous while doing it, just like old times?"

The other bit her lip, her smile fading just as quickly as it had come. "I don't know," she replied. "It depends."

"We've been over this." Isabela was very surprised to hear Anders speak for the first time since she'd walked in – _if it's even possible, he sounds worse than he looks. _"If we stay together, I'll only attract danger to you. Sebastian –"

"Sebastian can go stuff his bow up his arse for all I care," Denna snapped with a vehemence that Isabela had never heard before, then her tone softened slightly. "I'm not leaving you, Anders. Whatever happens... we stay together." One of her hands entwined with his, squeezing it reassuringly, but her eyes were desperate.

Anders smiled sadly. "Sweetheart, I can't condemn you to a life as a fugitive. It – it hurts me to say it, but... it would be for the best if we parted ways."

"It's a little late for the fugitive bit," Denna remarked, almost sardonically.

"I would be amenable to parting ways," Fenris put in darkly, glaring at Anders.

Isabela decided to jump in before a fight could begin. "So... does that mean you're not coming along, then?" she asked lightly.

"Would you _really_ want someone like me on board?" Anders asked, hopeless.

"Mages are always useful in illegal enterprise," the pirate rejoined brightly. "Especially ones who can do that electricity trick."

Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought a ghost of a smile played across his lips, if only for a moment. "I don't see how _that_ has anything to do with the black market."

"Neither I," Denna added, glancing at him impishly before addressing Bethany. "Beth, you've been pretty quiet. Feel like launching back into a life of crime?"

"I'm with you, sis, wherever you go." Bethany said firmly. "We've been apart for so long – and now that we're the last of the Hawkes, we should stick together. And if you decide to go with Isabela, then I'll come too."

Her sister nodded in silent agreement.

_This isn't going quite as well as I'd hoped. _Isabela moved on. "Fenris, how about you?"

The elf thought for a moment. Then: "Perhaps," he stated simply.

Feeling her initial good spirits beginning to fade, Isabela turned to the last of the seven, then paused. "Should I even bother asking you if I know you're just going to refuse?"

"You would assume correctly," Aveline said, but her tone wasn't as surly as before. "With the Templar Order in shambles, my guardsmen are all that's standing between order and chaos." She swallowed. "I – I just need to stay in Kirkwall."

"All work and no play makes Aveline a dull girl," the pirate countered in a singsong. "But if you change your mind, Donnic can come along, too."

"I don't think I will," the guard-captain said honestly. "But... thank you anyway."

Isabela blinked, genuinely surprised. "Was that – _gratitude_?" she asked.

"Don't let it go to your head," Aveline warned.

"How can I not?" the pirate said, smirking.

The other sighed heavily. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Still smiling, Isabela turned back to the rest of the group. "It looks like it's just you and me, kitten," she said lightly, addressing Merrill. "Everyone else is being very noncommittal."

"I prefer 'careful,'" Varric corrected. "Terminology is everything."

"Well, tell you what," the pirate said. "Merrill and I will wait a little for you. If any of you wake up tomorrow morning and decide that you want to join us, I'll be right here." Standing up, she gave them a little half-curtsey, half-bow. "And with that, I'll bid you all a good night."

* * *

><p>Isabela was yanking one of her boots back on when she heard the careful creak of a floorboard by the door of her rented room. Looking up from the arduous task of working the boot's leather cuff up over her knee, she saw Fenris standing in the doorway, silent and still.<p>

"Did you sleep on my offer?" she asked.

"I did," he replied simply.

"And?" the pirate prompted, giving her boot one final tug and finally pulling it on all the way. "Are you sailing off into the sunset with me or not?"

The elf paused for a moment. "I believe I will," he said finally.

"Oh, good! The more the merrier!" She flashed him a winning smile before grabbing her other boot from where she'd tossed it the night before. "Did you pack?"

"Yes." Fenris opened the worn satchel slung over one shoulder and pulled a small, dog-eared book out. "Besides my blade and my armor, this is the only possession of mine I have."

"Ooh, what is it?" Isabela leaned forward, nearly tipping off the edge of the bed as she made a grab for it. "Varric's new _Hard in Hightown _book?"

The elf held it just out of reach. "It's about Shartan. The leader of the elves who joined Andraste's rebellion." He tucked it back in his satchel.

"I thought you told me once that you couldn't read."

Fenris glanced away for a moment, his expression inscrutable. "Bethany has been teaching me how."

"_Bethany_?" The pirate's grin grew even wider. "Our own dear, sweet former apostate?"

"Yes, Bethany," the other confirmed, exasperated. "Do you have a point, Isabela?"

"None whatsoever," Isabela replied blithely. "It's just that your relationship has been a tad... _contentious _in the past. To go from that to being friends – or friends with benefits – or more than friends – or however you want to put it –"

"Bethany and I are _not_ sleeping together," Fenris said flatly, but the tips of his ears were turning a bright shade of pink.

"But you _do_ like her, don't you?" the pirate pressed.

"I don't know how I feel about her," the elf said.

"Well, I'd be conflicted too if I was rejected by one sister and moved on to the next," Isabela joked, beginning to put on her other boot.

Fenris glared at her. "Do not bring Denna into this."

"Why not?" the pirate asked lightly. "You seemed to be on speaking terms last night, anyway – that's an improvement from when I left."

The elf was silent for a moment. Then: "Why did you come back, Isabela?"

"I missed you all. Isn't that enough for most people?" Isabela finally yanked her boot all the way up her thigh with a grunt of effort.

"We aren't exactly 'most people,'" Fenris observed wryly.

"Well, you have me there." The pirate propped up her elbows on her knees, angling her head to face him. "But I really did. After I left Kirkwall... my luck was back, pickings were great, life was good, but – I didn't have any of you. I guess I got more attached than I thought I did." It felt strange saying it all out loud, let alone telling the truth. "And then I heard about everything that happened, and... I suppose I didn't want to see any of you in a crisis without me again." She smiled a little, but it didn't feel quite natural. _Or is this what being 'natural' feels like?_

Fenris looked like he was torn, as if he wanted to say something. Then: "I suppose you and I aren't that different in that regard," he said haltingly. "I – I left Denna for a time."

Isabela frowned slightly. "When was this?"

"After the mage blew up the Chantry. After Sebastian left." His eyes did not meet hers, and his voice was hoarse. "Denna chose to side with the Circle, and every one of us rallied around her but me. I went with Knight-Commander Meredith instead."

"But you came back in the end," the pirate finished. "For the same reasons I did?"

The elf slowly nodded. "When I stood with the Templars, I stood with people of the same mind as me. But I did not stand with those I had come to know – and even trust – over so many years. I did not stand with the people who had watched my back and saved my life... some of whom I had even begun to call 'friend.'" His voice had strengthened somewhat, gaining conviction. "I had no desire to betray any longer."

"Even Merrill or Anders?" Isabela teased. "Or just Denna?"

"Perhaps not the mages alone," Fenris amended, scowling slightly. "But Varric, Aveline, the Hawkes –?" He shook his head. "No."

"And what about me?" The pirate stood, sidling near to him.

The elf almost smiled. "Why do you think I'm coming with you?"

"Admiring the view?" Isabela offered jokingly. "I mean, if you're going to watch my _back_, Fenris –"

"You're incorrigible," Fenris sighed, starting to walk down the hall. "Besides, Bethany –"

"A-ha!" the pirate crowed, catching up to him easily. "So there _is_ something going on between you two! I swear, it's like I have a sixth sense when it comes to detecting forbidden passions!"

"Not another word, Isabela," the elf said, his tone dangerous.

Isabela just laughed as she bounded down the uneven stairs. "You _do _realize that I'm just happy for you, right? I'm glad you've found someone – especially someone as adorable as our darling Bethany."

"You have odd ways of showing your pleasure," Fenris commented, weaving his way around the mostly vacated tables; at this hour of the morning, the Hanged Man was eerily unoccupied and almost quiet.

"You're not the first to tell me that." Darting ahead of him, the pirate opened the door and ushered him through before following him out.

"Why am I not surprised?" the elf said wryly, looking around the mostly deserted street running by the Hanged Man.

"I don't know why you would be, to be honest." Isabela followed his lead, turning just in time to catch sight of two figures – the squatter one of Varric, and the slight, but taller one of Merrill – emerging out of a side street and heading right for them.

Merrill soon closed the distance between them, dropping her knapsack to the ground and throwing her arms around the pirate in a tight hug. "There you are! I came by earlier to see if you were up yet, but you were still sleeping and I didn't want to wake you, so –"

"– Daisy roped me into helping her pack up," Varric finished, rubbing his forehead. "And this was before I'd even finished my morning tea."

"Poor you." Isabela untangled herself from Merrill enough to pat him on the shoulder. "Made up your mind yet?"

The dwarf grinned, patting the bulky leather satchel at his side. "Well,_ someone_ has to chronicle the exploits of 'the Queen of the Eastern Seas,' don't they?"

"I knew you'd come around!" the pirate said proudly. "You can't stay away from adventure for long before its siren song lures you back again."

"Isn't it exciting?" Merrill let go of Isabela and picked up her knapsack, dusting it off before opening it up and digging through it. "I could hardly sleep at all last night just thinking about it – oh! I nearly forgot about this!" She pulled out a scrap of black fabric triumphantly.

It took the pirate a moment to figure out what it was. "Is that – an _eye patch_?"

The elf nodded enthusiastically, sliding it on her head and over one eye at a slightly crooked angle. "I thought that since I'm going to be a pirate and since I don't have a parrot or anything of the sort, I might as well make one of these." Her face practically glowed with exhilaration. "Don't I look – well, _pirate-y_?"

Isabela smiled fondly. "Perfectly pirate-y, kitten."

"I have one for you if you want it," Merrill offered brightly, holding out her knapsack. "I made one for everyone, actually." She glanced around. "Where is everyone else, by the way? Or is it just the four of us?"

"Unless I'm mistaken, Daisy," Varric said, peering around the others, "'everyone else' is headed our way."

Isabela swiveled her head around to see four familiar figures coming down the road. Save for Aveline, the rest of them were dressed for travel with knapsacks on their backs or satchels at their sides. Denna had her daggers at her side, and carried a long, carefully wrapped bundle that Isabela suspected contained Anders' and Bethany's staves. Anders cradled something close to his chest; as they drew near, the pirate realized that it was a squirming tabby cat.

"We're not late, are we?" Bethany asked anxiously.

"On the contrary, Sunshine, you're right on time," Varric said. "I take it you're fleeing Kirkwall right alongside us?"

"_They_ are," Aveline corrected, gesturing to her companions. "I'm just here to see you off and make sure you don't cause too much trouble on your way out."

Denna grinned, looking more like her usual mischievous self. "I'll try to contain myself."

"You won't have to; we'll be on the open ocean soon enough!" Isabela exclaimed before addressing the guard-captain. "Still not coming along?"

"I have a city to keep in line, a husband at home, and now, a mabari to take care of," Aveline said, glancing at Denna. "And if I _did_ join you, you'd complain that I was only cramping your style."

"Fair enough," the pirate laughed, opening her arms wide. "Come on, big girl. If this is the last time we're going to see each other in a while, at least give me a hug before I go."

The guard-captain sighed heavily. "Very well." She stepped forward and carefully, cautiously embraced Isabela, and then stepped away just as quickly. "Happy?"

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'll miss you," Isabela said, smirking wickedly. "Have fun with Donnic, will you? And if you ever _do _work up the courage to stick your thumb up his –"

"Maker, don't bring _that _up!" Aveline said disgustedly. "I was _almost_ sad that you were leaving, and then you ruined it!"

The pirate adopted an innocent look. "Oops."

Shaking her head, but smiling, the guard-captain gave Denna a brief hug as well before turning back to the others. "Good luck to you all, wherever you end up. And – come back to Kirkwall some day, when you get the chance."

"We'll try," Denna said quietly. "Good luck to you as well."

Raising her hand in a brief farewell, Aveline started to walk away, soon vanishing down the dusty street and the clusters of people beginning to venture out into Lowtown.

After one last look at where the guard-captain had gone, Isabela finally turned around back towards the others. "Everyone ready?" she asked, a roguish smile playing on her lips.

There were nods and murmured "yeses" all around, some more emphatic than others.

"Just follow me, then." And with one final look at the Hanged Man, the pirate started down the street, a spring in her step.

As she walked, Isabela briefly glanced back over her shoulder. Fenris had fallen into step beside Bethany, and she smiled at him as she took his hand. Denna had thrown her free arm around Anders's shoulder, and the two of them walked side-by-side. And even though she couldn't hear any of what they were saying, it looked like Merrill was trying to get Varric to wear one of the eye patches.

Smiling to herself, the pirate raised her eyes to the sky overhead, above the tops of the ramshackle buildings that lined the street: a clear, cloudless blue. For a moment, Isabela imagined that same color on the waters of the Waking Sea, sparkling in the sunlight as waves lapped the sides of the ship – _her_ ship, with her friends on it alongside her.

And in that moment, she felt truly lucky.

_**The**__** End**_

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><p><strong>[AN]: Thanks for reading, and please leave a review if you enjoyed it (besides, I'd appreciate the feedback)!**


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